


Ectothermic

by yeaka



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 20:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10669974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Hugging Sidon goes well.





	Ectothermic

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Legend of Zelda or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It’s one of those miserable days where the clouds are pouring down, the river’s already too wide, and half a dozen moblins are waiting on the shore he just left, so there’s no turning back. He dropped his last sword fighting them. The water’s filling up his lungs and the rain’s trying to pound him below the surface, and he can already feel his vision blurring—he doesn’t have enough stamina left—he’ll never make it—but he keeps swimming in the vain hope that he’ll—

Just when his arms are drooping, body too exhausted to fight the current any longer, he’s grabbed around the middle. His first reaction is a startled cry, and he reaches for the weapon no longer strung across his back. He finds, instead, the slick, smooth surface of a Zora—he releases a ragged breath of relief as Sidon’s voice calls over the roar of the rain, “Don’t worry, friend, I’ve got you!”

Even if Link wanted to, his battered state and mouth full of water wouldn’t let him say thank you properly. Instead, he lets himself go limp in Sidon’s arms, comforted by just how _strong_ the prince is. This is why, Link tells himself, he spent so long admiring Sidon’s muscles through his Sheikah slate. Sidon holds him steady and wades easily against the current, guiding them to the far shore that Link could’ve never reached on his own. There’s a small spark of embarrassment that he even needs the rescue, buried beneath the pure relief, but Sidon mutters in his ear, “That was amazing, Master Link! I saw the way you bested three of those brutes, yet you were smart enough to escape when they called for reinforcements. Brawn _and_ brains! You have it all!” Link can feel his cheeks heating, as they often have in Sidon’s presence. Sidon gives him entirely too much credit.

Sidon carries him right to the edge and helps him up the rocky slope, onto the safety of the damp grass, his broad shoulders ducked under Link’s slender arm. They’re far enough away that Link can’t even hear the moblin’s shouting anymore. Even the rain doesn’t seem so troublesome; it’s lightened anyway, filtering into a gentle shower that bounces off Sidon’s crimson exterior with a faint, ephemeral mist around his edges. Little rivulets of it stream down his smooth body, drizzling across his white underbelly, tracing around every hard line of muscle. Link looks blearily at his saviour for a moment, just admiring that natural beauty, and then gives in to the overwhelming stress of the day. He throws propriety aside and lets out another sigh, reaching out to clasp both arms around Sidon’s middle. He rests his cheek against Sidon’s taut chest, his body pulling close; Sidon’s warmer than the water was, and his surface is slick and soft. It feels so _good_ to just _hold someone_. Link’s journey has largely been a lonely one, and he’s never gotten support like Sidon gives.

He’s never felt an embrace like this one. He would’ve though it would be more awkward, Sidon being so much taller than him, but it isn’t that at all—quite comfortable, in fact, and it soothes Link all at once, soaking away all his troubles—

Sidon emphatically says, “ _Link_ ,” and gives Link’s shoulder a little push. Link begrudgingly detangles himself. Now that he’s dropped his mask of propriety, it’s hard to don it again. He feels like he deserves at least _some_ peace, if only for a moment. But Sidon chides, “You shouldn’t do that.” Head lifting up to meet Sidon’s golden gaze, strangely dilated, Link tilts his head to the side. He doesn’t know what Sidon means, though there’s a note of distress in Sidon’s voice, and a bit of colour to his cheeks. Link didn’t know Zora even _could_ blush, but then, he doesn’t know a lot of things about them, aside from them being aquatic, usually lovely to look at, and ruled by an incredibly admirable dynasty.

Sidon rubs the back of his head, suddenly averting his gaze, and explains, “...Normally, there’s nothing wrong with a show of such friendship, of course. I did not mean to be rude.” He pauses, and his eyes return to Link’s; Link tries to hold them fast. “It’s just that... you must understand, Link, that you’re a very... attractive... individual. And for such a gorgeous person to embrace another so, well... you’re bound to tempt someone.” He adds a bit of a chuckle to the end, but it sounds nervous.

Link thinks, at first, that he’s heard wrong, but he doesn’t know what else Sidon could’ve meant. Link’s heard a few whispers before, mainly from girls in the towns he runs by, about his own looks, but he didn’t pay that any mind; those were just small villages that didn’t get a lot of new faces. But Sidon...

Sidon is quite possibly the most handsome creature in all of Hyrule, and getting a compliment from him makes Link’s face heat up. He stares up at Sidon, trying to ascertain if Sidon’s actually _tempted_ by him. 

He never even considered it a possibility before. He fantasized, rarely and only in the vaguest sense, of enjoying a short break to just _connect_ with someone, but it always seemed so far removed from reality. By the time he’s finished mentally reeling, the rain’s stopped.

Sidon’s still standing over him, and Link makes up his mind that he doesn’t want to wait until the next time Sidon rescues him or offers him a ride. He lifts up on the tips of his boots, his hands reaching to tug lightly at the finds framing Sidon’s face. Sidon obediently lowers down, eyes wide in surprise. 

He doesn’t go _quite_ far enough for Link to kiss, but swallows audibly and asks, “Link, what is—”

Link jumps, pecks Sidon’s mouth, and hits the ground again, the dewy grass squelching under his weight.

Sidon blinks down at him.

Sidon tentatively touches his own lips, while Link steps closer and embraces him again. Holding on, Link tilts his head back and parts his lips, lashes lowering, hoping for the rest. He’s sure, now that he’s looked long enough in Sidon’s eyes, that Sidon also wants what he craves.

Sure enough, Sidon surges down, holding Link twice as tight, and slams their lips together. It’s the best thing that’s happened to Link in years.

Maybe centuries. 

Link pulls Sidon down to the grass by the shoulders and enjoys the day off he’s finally due.


End file.
